


Holidays

by way1203



Series: Burlap and Shakes [4]
Category: Batman (Movies - Nolan), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Angst and Porn, Awkward Thanksgiving Dinner Conversations, Doctor/Patient, Established Relationship, Eventual Smut, F/M, Lemon, Masturbation, Mental Health Issues, Mental Instability, Porn With Plot, Sex, Smut, Thanksgiving
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-28
Updated: 2017-03-28
Packaged: 2018-10-11 23:30:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10476981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/way1203/pseuds/way1203
Summary: In which Crane and his ex-patient indulge in a few naughty holiday antics.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [wouldyouliketoseemymask](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wouldyouliketoseemymask/gifts).



> Disclaimer: Any symptoms experienced by Hallie are based from my own experiences with OCD.
> 
> This one builds on a few points established in Valentine's Day.
> 
> Skip to the break to go straight for the smut.

"When are you two going to get married?"

Jonathan Crane was mid-swallow, his mouth half full of water when Hallie's adoptive mother posed the question. He took a breath, causing the water to switch pipes. Crane swallowed quickly and began to cough.

Hallie's adoptive father slapped him on the back. "You alright there, Jon-boy?"

"Fine," Crane croaked. "Thank you."

"So when are you two going to get married?" repeated Margery. "We'd certainly love you to be part of the family, Jonathan. Wouldn't we, Darrin?"

"We would!" The burly man grinned.

Mr. and Mrs. Menne were an interesting pair. Margery was a thin woman, just under five feet, with long strawberry blonde hair, who collected Snowbabies and enjoyed knitting. Darrin, on the other hand, reminded Crane of a cross between a lumberjack and Santa Claus. He was six foot three, bald, and large around the middle, with rosy cheeks and a brown beard that fell to the center of his chest. Darrin wore red plaid every single time Crane encountered him. It was weird—her adoptive parents were weird. Oddities aside, they didn't irritate Crane too much. They went out of their way to make him feel welcome, and he couldn't say they didn't love Hallie. Scarecrow, on the other hand, hated it. He hated her parents, he hated the drive out to the country during the holiday, and he hated that Jonathan played nicely through it all. 

"Mom!" said Hallie, her cheeks flushed. "You nearly choked him."

Crane touched her knee. "It's alright, Hallie. Your parents asked a legitimate question. We have been dating for some time now. Most people our age get engaged after six months."

He and Hallie were in their early thirties. She never pressed him for a proposal even though her social media feeds were full of wedding announcements and pregnancy pictures from her acquaintances. Crane honestly didn't understand the rush to get married and procreate. From what he understood, Hallie agreed with him. She said at least once that she was more preoccupied with gaining control of her mental health than starting a family.

"You two have been together three times that amount," said Margery.

"Mom, we're not getting engaged."

"It's the holidays, honey. Do you blame me for asking? Besides, you've been living together. I just assumed the next step would be marriage."

"Or children, then marriage." Darrin swallowed a mouthful of turkey. "No judgment."

Hallie picked at her stuffing, "You know what they say about assumptions, mom."

"I just want you happy, honey--and you too, Jonathan." Margery glanced at Crane. "Whether that means you two get married or not. But I'd prefer married."

She laughed to diffuse the tension, but Crane felt increasingly uncomfortable with where they were going in the conversation. He didn't have plans to propose to Hallie anytime soon, nor did he have any ideas about raising children with her. He did, however, plan to be with her into the new year. Crane took his relationship with Hallie three months at a time. At the end of those months, he'd evaluate his feelings for her, how he perceived her feelings were for him, and whether or not he could see himself with her for the next three-month stretch.

Today was Thanksgiving. He shouldn't be surprised that these questions were coming up at the dinner table. He'd even shoved a couple of TUMS in this pocket in the likely event that the conversation took a turn and gave him indigestion. The reason why Jonathan and Hallie were visiting her parents for a few days was to attempt to be "normal" (whatever that meant) and to do what average cliche couples did during the holidays (whatever that was). He tried to suppress Scarecrow and be more open, and Hallie...

Crane turned to Hallie. Today, she'd twisted her pale brown hair into a loose braid that fell just past her breasts. There were slight wrinkles throughout her navy dress, and she sat barefoot at the table, her boots left behind in the entryway hours ago. To everyone else at the table, Hallie seemed fine, aside from general embarrassment. He admired how well she was hiding it. Crane noticed the fingers on her left fidgeting with a thread on her dress and silently reached over to hold them in his grasp. She began to jiggle her leg instead. He glanced down at her fingernails. There was dried blood under her the nail of her middle finger and on the top of her thumbnail. He mentally swore. She'd been picking her lip again, a tell-tale warning signal that her dosage needed upping. His blues met her hazels, and he could see the panic rising in them. He needed to calm Hallie down.

"Well, maybe there will be an engagement in time for Christmas," said Crane flippantly. "Or perhaps Valentine's Day. It would be cliché. However, that is the holiday most use to profess how much they care for one another."

He wasn't exactly sure he meant his words, but he needed to give Mrs. Menne something time-wise so she'd drop the subject entirely. Thankfully, she took the bait. Unfortunately, she ran with the news and devoured it.

Margery clasped her hands together. "Christmas? That'd be excellent. That sure is close. You might want to start shopping for a ring. I know! My grandmother's ring is upstairs. I think it's Hallie's size. Would you like to see?"

Suddenly, Hallie covered her mouth and ran out of the room. Margery gasped, Darrin continued to eat, and Crane grimaced. The sound of Hallie retching from the kitchen made him swallow the urge to heave himself. Margery shook her head.

"Honey, you should've told us you weren't feeling well."

"I'm feeling fine," said Hallie. She returned to the dining room. "I didn't...I'm sorry."

Disgusted but thankful for a chance to leave the table, Crane got to his feet. "I'll help you upstairs."

"Thanks."

"Pass the gravy, Marge?" asked Darrin. "Potatoes are delicious."

Margery slapped his arm. "Your daughter just threw up, and you keep eating?"

"I'm hungry! Besides, it was all your pestering that got Hallie-cat upset. It's not good for the digestion."

"Darrin!"

"Mom, I'm fine," said Hallie. "I don't know what came over me. I just felt nauseous out of the blue."

Margery frowned, "Out of the blue? It wasn't dinner was it?"

"No, just your insistence on our engagement," muttered Crane as he pushed up his glasses.

Hallie shook her head. "Mom, I'm gonna go upstairs..."

"Sweetheart," the older woman pressed, "you're not pregnant, are you?"

Vomit climbed its way back up Hallie's throat, sending her running out of the room. Crane clenched his jaw. How mad would Hallie be if he added her adoptive mother to Scarecrow's list? Margery turned to Crane.

"She's pregnant, isn't she?"

He looked at the woman with narrowed eyes. What part of _no_ didn't she understand? Crane shook his head. "I assure you, she is not."

Without another word, he followed Hallie upstairs.

* * *

  
"Are you feeling any better?"

Hallie nodded. After escaping the stressful situation downstairs, she'd started to feel okay, so she brushed her teeth and curled up on her bed in hopes that her stomach would settle. Thankfully, it did.

Crane dabbed at her forehead with a wet cloth. "You told me once, during one of our earlier sessions, that you vomit when you're extremely anxious. Was that what happened downstairs?"

"It was all that talk about marriage," she said. "I was already anxious about bringing you home for the second time. I knew she was going to pull something like that. I didn't want her pressuring our relationship."

"Adoptive or not, she is your mother. Being overbearing and unnecessary at times is her job."

"You're right. Ugh, I don't think I can go back down there."

"You will have to eventually. Especially considering she adamantly believes we're expecting."

Hallie groaned. "Thanks for reminding me."

"But for my sanity..."

"What?"

"Darling dear, I know you would tell me, but I just want to confirm that you're not pregnant."

"I'm not pregnant, Jonathan. Trust me. If I were, I wouldn't be this calm." Hallie touched his cheek. "Thanks for putting up with my family."

Crane shrugged. "It gives me some normality. Reminds me what healthy families look like."

She gave a sad smile. He hated when she made that face. He didn't want her taking pity on him and his past. Especially considering there was nothing she could do about it. Hallie's lips removed him from his thoughts. He cupped her jaw, deepening the kiss as she leaned back against her elbows. In the following moments, Crane found himself nestled between her legs without his sweater. Hallie unbuttoned the top of her dress to reveal a lacy bralette.

He immediately broke the kiss and got off of her. What were they doing? What was _he_ doing? He adjusted glasses. How did he keep allowing her to distract him? Now that Crane was lying beside her, Hallie took this as an opportunity to straddle him. Her mouth found that one spot just below his ear. His jaw slackened. The aching inside his boxers made him long to remove them.

" _Hallie_..." he warned.

She sat up. "Yes?"

God, he loved the way she looked on top of him. Crane swallowed hard. "I know it's been a month since we last..."

"Uh-huh." Hallie's hands moved further down his torso. "But?"

"We can't."

"We _shouldn't_."

"No, Hal. We can't."

"Why not?"

"Let's see. I don't have protection, we are in your childhood bedroom, and your parents are downstairs. I hardly think now is the right time."

"First, I'm on birth control, remember? Plus the door is shut, and they almost always knock. I know being quiet in bed isn't our strong suit, but I think we can manage it this once. Besides, isn't it my job to worry?" Crane couldn't help but smile. She continued, "And I'm actually not worried right now, so, please? Can we have this? While I'm not distracted by my own thoughts or you with yours."

Hallie paused, then bit her bottom lip. What if he didn't want to have sex with her? Here she was pressuring him. She was horrible. But what if he _did_ want to have sex? Usually, Crane made it very clear when he wasn't in the mood. He would tell her _no_ without listing the reasons and leave the room. But he told her no. Hallie tried to slow her spiraling throughts. 

_No. Not now._

She'd been doing so well. She couldn't let her mind distract her from this. Not when she was so close.

After a deep breath, she said, "Y-You wanted normality, and nothing is more normal or cliche than sneaking around your parents. We can have that quintessential holiday sex-with-your-boyfriend-when-your-parents-are-in-the-house moment. At least I think it's—"

Crane silenced her with a kiss. He'd noticed her dominance start to crumble into nervous rambling, and he needed to reassure her that she wasn't missing the mark. He needed to bring her back to him. He wrapped one arm around her back to pull her against him, and allowed his right hand to drift up to the apex of her thigh. Hallie grinned against his mouth. She loved the feeling of being chest to chest with him, of having the playing field between them leveled momentarily, both equally needy in their lust. Hallie opened her mouth, and Crane accepted this invitation. Their tongues met for a moment. He kissed her bottom lip, then gave it a gentle nip before they separated.

"So are we...?" Hallie looked down at Crane's chest. She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. "Are you saying...?"

Her nervous habit would be adorable right now had it not been evidence of her new psychiatrist's shortcomings. She'd managed to stop that and a few other, albeit more concerning, manifestations of her disorders under his care. He still needed to have a private conversation with that doctor. Perhaps Scarecrow would help them see eye to eye on Hallie's treatment plan.

"Do you still...um?"

"Let's make this quick."

Crane unbuttoned and unzipped his pants, kicking them to the floor. The relief was instant but not nearly enough. The fabric of his boxer briefs, despite the stretch, was far too tight for his liking. He watched Hallie hike up her dress and his breath caught in his throat. She wore nothing underneath. Biting his lip, he dipped his fingers into Hallie's entrance, taking note of her arousal. She moaned at the contact.

"Oh, darling dear..." Crane tsked. "Were you _that_ certain you would get lucky today?"

"I thought I'd at least have a shot before dinner."

He didn't know what to say, but he knew what he longed to do. The sight of Hallie on top of him, fully clothed, sans panties was more than enough. He needed her now. He captured her mouth again. When she tugged his down his boxers, Crane actually sighed in relief. Why did he let her do this to him? He allowed her to stick around for far too long if this is what she could do to him. He needed to leave her at the end of the three months, if only because he'd gotten too close--but he knew he couldn't let her go. Crane enjoyed her intellect and Scarecrow enjoyed the warmth of her body and the way he felt inside her. She was definitely more satisfying than his hand.

Crane gasped. Hallie had pulled him back to earth with her body. He felt himself bottom out as she finished sliding onto his member. Hallie grasped the headboard to steady herself.

"Come back to me," she whispered.

He locked eyes with her. "I'm right here."

"Good."

Crane held onto Hallie's bottom as she rode him. They started slowly at first, reacquainting themselves with the feeling of one another. It wasn't long before their pace increased and the bed began to squeak beneath them. Hallie managed to grind her hips against his in just the right way to satisfy herself.

An inward moan spilled from her lips. "I feel naughty."

"Because you are."

"I am?" Hallie gave a playful pout.

"Yes, and let me show you how naughty you are." Crane flipped Hallie onto her back and drove himself into her. She giggled. He kissed her ear and punctuated his words with deep snaps of his hips. "Showing up with no underwear...fucking your boyfriend, in your dress, within earshot of your parents...not giving a damn that this bed is practically giving us away. You, Hallie Menne, are a naughty...little...girl."

As the speed of his thrusts increased, Crane rubbed her clit in gentle circles. The combination made her moan louder than she intended. She slapped a hand over her mouth.

He stopped and brought a finger to his lips. "You don't want to get caught, _do you_?"

Hallie shook her head.

"Now, if we were home, I would give you the proper punishment. But I suppose I'll have to do this instead."

Crane pinned her hands above her head, then laced his fingers with hers. He planted kisses along her collarbone. Hallie bent her knees and widened her legs. Their lips met again as he sunk himself deep into her center. Crane heard himself moan at their new angle. 

"Hush, darling," said Hallie with a smirk. "You don't want to get caught, _do you_?"

"You have no idea how satisfying you feel."

"If it's anything like the way you feel, then I think I do."

His thrusts became rough and more deliberate. Hallie tightened around him like a vice. She was close--really, _really_ close. Crane brushed his fingers against her clit once more. Hallie whined and pressed her toes into the comforter, her orgasm climbing rapidly up her body. He ran his hand up her stomach and under her bra.

"Darling," Hallie breathed. "I'm gonna..."

"Come?"

She nodded.

"Poor little Hallie," teased Crane. "So overcome with pleasure. If you're gonna come... _then do it_."

As if on cue, Hallie shut her eyes and arched her back. A silent moan erupted from her throat. Her hips bucked against his. Crane maintained his pace as he watched her come. He admired how beautiful she was when she was writhing beneath him in pleasure. It amazed him what she did to him, how intensely she managed to arouse him. He struggled to stave off his release. Crane clenched his jaw. He had to wait until she finished. His pace grew more erratic. 

As Hallie came down, she brought a hand to her forehead and whimpered, "Oh...fuck me..."

"I just did, darling dear," said Crane.

He quickly pulled out, grabbed a tissue, and spilled himself into it. Crane moaned in relief, albeit louder than he'd intended. He should have brought a condom. Hell, considering how occasional and sometimes spontaneous their intimate moments were, he should start carrying one with him. Crane stood and placed the tissue into the bin beneath her desk. Hallie watched Crane tuck himself into his boxers. She was suddenly aware of how wet she was and how sticky the inside of her thighs felt with her arousal and his pre-cum. Crane laid down beside her.

"You didn't have to do that," said Hallie softly.

He said nothing. He knew what Hallie meant, and he wouldn't make her say it for confirmation. Instead, he pulled her closer to him and granted her a kiss.

It was an unspoken agreement. Crane didn't have to, but they both knew it was necessary for him to do so. They both knew Hallie's mental health had grown worse since Crane transferred her to another doctor. That, had he not pulled out, her intrusive thoughts would never allow her to relax until she acted on them. She would rush to the store within the next hour to purchase the Plan B pill despite never missing a day of her birth control pills. Her compulsion to pick her lip would surface, and she'd give in until her nails were slightly bloody. The one action of Crane spilling himself inside of Hallie would set off a cycle of problems her new psychiatrist would likely be clueless on how to properly fix.

Hallie broke the kiss. "Jonathan, I...I..."

"I know. Come on." Crane took her hand. "I believe both of us are in need of a shower."

He was grateful Hallie's bedroom had a bathroom attached. He hadn't exactly wanted to navigate the hallway in their current state. Crane locked the door behind them and leaned his back against it. The bathroom was small, the shower square and intimate, but it would handle the two of them just fine. Hallie stood before him, her hair and dress mussed, her eyes cast downward. She rubbed her upper arm. He could see the shame creeping its way across her face.

"Hallie."

She didn't answer. Instead, she lifted herself up and sat down on the counter. She began to chew her bottom lip. Crane said her name much more forcefully this time. She met his eyes.

"Don't apologize. You did nothing wrong."

Regardless of his reassurance, Hallie still felt incredibly guilty. How did she leave the apartment without underwear, hoping to get lucky, and not slip a condom into her bag? She was stupid. _She was so stupid_.

"Come back to me. Take a deep breath."

She jumped at the feeling of Crane's hands on her knees. Hallie did as he asked. The breath didn't help. She tried again but stopped when she noticed the tightness of his jaw and the tight line of his lips. She frowned. Somehow she'd upset him. Hallie wrung her hands, "I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you mad."

Crane furrowed his brow and removed his glasses. Make him mad? What was she...? He noticed his expression in the mirror behind her and sighed. "Hallie, know that I'm not directing my agitation at you, but at your psychiatrist and, in some ways, myself."

"What?"

"It seems I had a lapse in judgment when I authorized Dr. Ryland to take over your sessions. I shouldn't have allowed someone with such inexperience to be your doctor in my stead. I keep telling myself that I need to deal with him, yet I let him continue to ruin all of the progress I made with you. I should've handled him the day you told me he refused to refill your medication and wanted you to cease it without weaning." Crane ran a hand through his hair. That particular incident bothered him the most. Thankfully, he was able to intervene before she experienced withdrawals, but he knew should have stopped him before it got that far. "I assure you that once we get back into town, I'll deal with him accordingly."

Hallie was going to reply but paused for a moment instead. She could count on one hand the number of times she'd seen him rant. It wasn't often, only when he was particularly agitated, but it always concerned her. Mostly because of what followed in the days after. Hallie removed her dress as Crane turned on the faucets. The sound of the stream eased nausea that threatened to bubble up again. She reached for his hand. He took it and granted her both eye contact and his full attention. Her tone was so hushed when she spoke that he had to lean forward to hear her words.

"You mean Scarecrow, don't you?"

Crane set his shoulders. "Yes. The medicine I plan to give him is concentrated. He'll live."

"His mind?"

"Lost."

"The way mine almost was?"

At that moment, as she gazed up at him, as that painful memory between them expanded through the room like shower steam, he wanted to lie to her. But he couldn't. He wanted to concoct something that would erase the memory of that night from her mind, but he couldn't. In fact, he already tried and failed after it happened. That night in Arkham's basement was an accident. Crane never intended for that to happen to her. Scarecrow, however, did and loved every horrific moment of it. He watched Hallie wipe her eyes furiously.

" _Jonathan, answer me._ "

The growl in her voice took him off guard. "Yes and no," said Crane. "The dose he'll receive is a different formula, and much more potent. He will not receive an antidote as quickly as you did. In fact, he won't receive an antidote at all."

Hallie nodded. There were many times when she saw Scarecrow in Crane's eyes. The poison in those pale blues led to moments when he looked at her, and Hallie knew she was in over her head. Jonathan Crane was lethal. The man she slept next to, the one who would talk her back to sleep after the nightmares made her scream and the horrors she saw with that mask flooded her waking thoughts, that man was capable of so much. Hallie struggled to unhook her bra, so she pulled it over her head. Sensing her anxiety and agitation, Crane kissed her temple and brought her into his chest.

"Hallie, I promised you after that night that he would not hurt you again."

"You did."

"I don't take that lightly."

Crane never promised her anything. He would assure her. He would see about the possibility of doing whatever it was she wanted. He would remind her of what she knew and reiterate several constants about their relationships when she was particularly upset. He never, _ever_ promised. That, in and of itself, should have been enough, but Hallie worried just the same.

"We should get inside," he said. "The water's ready."

The two entered the shower. Feeling the warm water against Hallie's back eased her tension. To aid her in relaxing, Crane kissed her in various places, ran his fingers through her hair, and reaffirmed his feelings for her. She closed her eyes. Hallie needed to clear her mind. She took a deep breath. That one worked, so she took two more. She tried to focus on the present moment, on Crane's hands lathering body wash against her skin. When he kissed her neck, Hallie noticed a familiar ache begin to build between her legs again. She stood with her legs slightly apart and ran her fingers against her folds. When was the last time she took care of things herself? She teased her clit as Crane rubbed the washcloth against her bottom. She moaned.

"What are you doing, Hallie?"

She quickly removed her hands. Her cheeks flushed. "Nothing!"

Crane chuckled. "I'm not an expert, but I believe it might be easier for you to pleasure yourself if you sat or lied down."

"I-I wasn't."

"Oh?"

"Yeah." Hallie stood in the stream of water to rinse her skin.

He handed her the washcloth. "Here. There's one place I failed to clean. I think you can handle it yourself."

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

"Well, it _has_ been some time since I caught you in the act."

She continued to clean up, using the time to tease herself while Crane rinsed himself off. As their shower ended, Hallie's urge to satisfy herself only increased. She dried herself slowly.

Crane wrapped a towel around his waist. "I know what you're trying to do."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

He hummed. He took his time picking his boxers up from the floor. Hallie squeezed her thighs together. Fuck, she needed another release. Crane gazed at himself in the mirror and combed his fingers through his hair.

"Hallie dear, do you think I need a haircut?"

"Stop stalling," groaned Hallie. "I really, really need to do this."

"To do what?" Crane feigned ignorance. "You're not going to touch yourself, are you, Hallie?"

Her cheeks burned pink. "Yes."

He loved the way she looked when she was flustered and aching to get off. He stepped closer to Hallie. "But darling dear, I thought you said—"

"Please, just get out!"

He smirked, "Take your time."

She watched Crane leave the bathroom. He would give her all the time in the world, but thanks to his teasing, a moment was all she needed. Hallie sat on the counter and opened her legs. She ran her fingers from her entrance to her bud and rubbed it in gentle circles. She bit her bottom lip. Hallie brought her other hand to her breast and squeezed. She sighed. Why didn't she do this more often? Hallie alternated between rubbing her clit fast and slow while applying different pressures. She moaned as her orgasm started to build. Satisfied with how wet she was, Hallie spread her legs wider and slipped two fingers inside herself. After a few pumps, she returned her attention to her clit. She increased her speed this time, eager to find release. Hallie ground her palm against her clit. Her body shook. She tossed her head back, moaning softly as she came.

Crane was fully-clothed and waiting for Hallie when she exited the bathroom. Without a word, she put on her bra and fished a pair of underwear from her duffel bag. Hallie pulled them on, along with leggings and a sweatshirt, then sat next to Crane expectantly.

"Satisfied?" He asked.

Hallie nodded. "Quite."

"Good, because I have an idea."

"What is it?"

"Neither one of us wanted to deal with your parents for the holidays, but we made an appearance anyway."

"Right."

"Now, considering your incident downstairs, and your parents likely overhearing everything we did just now, any contact with them for the next 72 hours of this visit will be incredibly uncomfortable."

"What are you proposing we do?" Hallie scoffed. "Leave?"

Crane nodded once. "Precisely."

"Oh, thank God."

"So is that a yes?"

"Yes."

"Good. Because once we're home, I plan to repeat what we did here with a few enhancements."

Hallie irked an eyebrow. "Oh, really?"

"Yes. To start, the longer you take to get packed, the longer I plan to tease you. And considering the amount of time it took for you to get dressed after your moment in the bathroom, and the time it took for us to have this little talk, you should expect," Crane looked at his watch, "seven minutes of prolonged pleasure."

" _Seven_?!"

"You're right, my mistake. Make that eight. Tick-tock, darling dear."

Hallie quickly gathered her clothes and shoved them into her duffel with a smile. She couldn't wait to get home.


End file.
